


New Year's Eve

by Browneyesparker



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Holiday, New Year's Eve, New York City, Romance, celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3065393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browneyesparker/pseuds/Browneyesparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan and Sherlock celebrate New Year's Eve. A follow-up to "I'll Be Home For Christmas". Rated T. AU-ish. Joanlock. Holiday fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Eve

.  
“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?” Sherlock Holmes asked Joan Watson the day after Christmas. 

Joan pushed her hair away from her face and took a sip of coffee. “I haven’t given much thought to it, to be completely honest. Why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you would like to be my date that night.”

Joan frowned, took another sip of coffee to buy her time. She swallowed hard and adjusted her glasses. “What do you mean by date?” she finally asked.

“Date. . . like you and me in formal wear, a bottle of something non-alcoholic. . . on New Year’s Eve. There doesn’t have to be anything romantic about it, it can be whatever you want it to be.”

“Formal wear?” Joan repeated, her frown deepening. “What do you mean by date? Like we would go out to the Waldorf and dance all night then kiss at the stroke of midnight?”

“We wouldn’t have to kiss at the stroke of midnight,” Sherlock replied. “I’m not even talking about going out to the Waldorf; I’m just talking about two friends spending a holiday together. We did it yesterday without any problems; I do not see why we cannot do it again.”

“You’re talking about me coming here then? You want to spend New Year’s Eve just the two of us at the Brownstone?”

“We can do whatever you want to do,” Sherlock told her. “I just want to spend New Year’s Eve with you. I don’t care how we do it.”

He looked sort of vulnerable, standing there and fiddling with the coffee pot. It was one of the handful of times he looked like that. It usually made her want to give him whatever he was asking for, and spending New Year’s Eve could be such a totally innocent thing with the right ground rules.

She took another long sip of coffee and then released a deep breath. “Okay,” she agreed.

Sherlock smiled. “Good.”

“But I think we shouldn’t celebrate here,” Joan added. “Book reservations at the Waldorf or see if we can go to Time’s Square. . . or something like that.”

Sherlock made a face. “Time’s Square? I’ll see what I can do about the Waldorf, if that will really make you happy.”

“It would,” Joan answered. 

Sherlock smiled, recovering his cool quickly. “Very well then, I will pick you up promptly at six-thirty PM, Watson.”

Joan smiled. “Well then, I’ll be ready and waiting for you. I have to go now; I have a dozen things to do.”

Sherlock nodded. “Oh, of course. Christmas is over and you were only home for one day. I understand. Do you want to do brunch on Sunday morning?”

“I think I could manage brunch,” Joan answered, leaving the kitchen and getting her coat. “I’ll see you Sunday then. Goodbye Sherlock!”

“Goodbye Joan!” Sherlock called back. “Have a good day!”

“You too!”

Joan closed the door and pulled her cell phone out, dialing her mother to tell her that Christmas had turned out well and that her loneliness had disappeared. They chatted for a little bit longer and she told her about the New Year’s Eve invitation, they agreed to meet on 5th Avenue the next day to find a suitable dress for the occasion. 

She didn’t know what she was doing and she didn’t think Sherlock even knew what he was doing. But this past month, everything rational concerning him had gone out the window. Suddenly, she was feeling things for him that she had never felt for him before and she wasn’t sure that it was connected with being apart or the Brownstone. 

Or maybe it was. 

Somebody had once said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe that was what was happening, being apart from him had made her realize things she hadn’t before. Maybe it was because it was the holidays and she had been so lonely in her apartment with nothing but Hallmark movies and Clyde for company. 

She didn’t know what was going on between them. But she fully intended to find out, she just hoped at the end of it all, their friendship wouldn’t be a bigger wreck than it already was after she found out just what it was between them.

.

Sherlock picked her up a little bit before six-thirty; it gave them a little time to compliment each other before they had to go. He was looking sharp in a tuxedo; nobody would believe this man spent most of his time in funky socks and ill-fitting vests. He admired her in her strapless, gold Marchesa gown and approved of her simple, sleek bun. She thanked him and then he helped her into her long wool coat. 

There was a car service waiting to take them to the Waldorf and Joan realized that it couldn’t really be a date. The girls he usually ‘dated’ only saw his bedroom and pretty much nothing else. She felt a little relieved, she felt a little disappointed. She mentally scolded herself; this was Sherlock she was talking about. She had never been romantically interested in him before; she wasn’t going to start now.

She stole a glance at him, his face bathed in the lights of New York City while he looked straight ahead, his hands folded on his lap, not touching her or saying much. There was a Jay-Z and Alicia Keys song playing on the radio station and filling in the silent spaces between them.

They got to the Waldorf and he helped her out, securing his arm in her’s as they walked into the hotel. An orchestra was playing standards and the dance floor was already filled with other couples. Joan bit her lip, forgetting her carefully applied lipstick before turning to look at Sherlock. 

“I think tonight included a dance or two, or even dancing the night away.”

“I don’t dance,” Sherlock answered. 

“I highly doubt that,” Joan replied. “Mycroft told me how your father had you take dance lessons when you were little boys. One dance Sherlock, that’s all I want. And then we can spend the whole night at our table if that’s what you want to do.”

“One dance,” Sherlock said, sweeping her onto the dance floor before she could react. A piece from a Rodgers and Hammerstein film was playing, Joan had known the song very well when she had been a young girl and she thought it was ironic that it was playing tonight of all nights. 

Long-forgotten lyrics danced over her brain and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to be carried away by the melody and Sherlock’s capable dance moves as she slowly lost a part of her that had been firmly in place since she had entered his life for the first time.

Sweetheart they’re suspecting things played over and over in her mind and drove her crazy. She wished the words far away, that they would change tunes. Finally when she didn’t think she could stand it anymore, it changed into Some Enchanted Evening. 

Joan tripped to a stop and blushed when Sherlock steadied her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s like I have two left feet. I’m not myself Sherlock, maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Coming out or dancing?”

“Everything,” Joan answered. “The dancing, the New Year’s Eve date. Can’t you tell? Something’s changed between us. . . something’s seriously changed. And it isn’t because I need my space or whatever excuse I used back in May. Maybe I just need to get you out of my system, maybe there’s been this energy between us for a couple years now and I’m just noticing it now because we’ve been separated for a few months.”

“Getting me out of your system or visa-versa most definitely won’t solve any of your problems my dear. It might make things even worse between us,” Sherlock said. “And we’ve just found our footing again. We’re good as friends, as partners. . . why complicate it with something you can’t ever take back after it’s happened?”

Joan cleared her throat. “Right. Forget I ever said anything.”

Even though he knew he wouldn’t really forget.

The Rodgers and Hammerstein medley ended and he took her back to their reserved table, holding on loosely to her wrist. They sat down and a waiter came immediately, filling their glasses to the top with water. 

They sat in silence until it was almost midnight and everybody else had gathered on the dance floor together. 

“Come on,” Sherlock said in what seemed like a reluctant tone to Joan. “Let’s go ring in the New Year, shall we?”

“Okay,” Joan agreed, standing up and smoothing out her dress. 

They counted down with the other revelers, when it struck midnight, the orchestra started to play Auld Lang Syne, Joan turned to Sherlock and offered him an uncertain smile.

“Happy New Year’s,” Sherlock said, only loud enough for her to hear.

Joan placed a hand on his face, braver in the dimmer lights. “Happy New Year’s, Sherlock.” 

She waited a beat and then stood on her tip-toes, kissing him on the mouth without a hint of reservation. She waited for it to be awkward, for a sense of this is like kissing my brother to come over her. When it didn’t, she deepened the kiss just slightly and waited for him to reciprocate. It took a minute or two, but he finally did. It was filled with hesitation but there was a hint of promise in it.

She pulled away, a little breathless. She smiled at him and he smiled back, a little uncertainly. 

A little anxiously. 

It was okay though, 2015 was off to a wonderful start for her. She couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the year brought for her. 

For them as a pair.

She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

_The End_

.

**Author's Note:**

> I normally do not write romantic Joanlock but my little sister asked and since her birthday is tomorrow and she is ten years younger than me, I cannot deny her anything. I’m thinking about making this a series. But I’m not making any promises. In the meantime I hope you’ll review. Or leave kudos. Whatever suits your fancy.


End file.
